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I Am My Own Prison

I was a river of overflowing words and emotions. Footprints in the sand forever walking towards greater freedom as I became a seasoned soul upon this planet. Then with the death of my grandmother, mother, husband and then my son I found myself to lost to hold any foothold of progress.

Once a writer, poet, avid artist, website designer and helper of meandering souls such as mine. I have undeniably lost my passion for such things, for even life. I seek myself inwardly and outwardly and even in Gods bosom but I do not find.

I long to laugh, to cry and feel. I only find myself retreating like some hermit that still complains of being deathly alone. A prisoner unto myself and better that than the prisoner I make of men who try to love me. My heart and soul has been torn to barely visible shreds, To sparse to make any sense of reassembly.

I no longer trust myself with me nor others and I no longer trust others with me. Tell me God where and when does the healing come? When can I escape myself yet face myself. Love myself and love you and gain the trust and hope back?

I’m afraid to write anything negative for fear it will only bring me more of the same. I will try to let out some of my feelings in order to see if it opens a few doors for me. All I know is that I am now ruled by neurotic behavior and thoughts. I want to come home, really home.

Home in my soul while I am still here on this earth! Please guide me, Please guide me…

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